


Speak to Me

by hibiren



Series: Jay's JoSeb Collection 2017 [2]
Category: The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: Cell Phones, Emotional, Joseb - Freeform, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Nightmares, Nighttime, Phone Calls & Telephones, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-20 15:05:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12435321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hibiren/pseuds/hibiren
Summary: 3 in the morning was usually time for sleep, but Joseph's nights lately have been spent consoling Sebastian through his nightmares.





	Speak to Me

**Author's Note:**

> more 3 am joseb writing please enjoy

The sound of Joseph’s work phone ringing drew him out of the dream he’d been having and back to reality, to the darkness of his bedroom illuminated by the beam of bright light from his phone’s suddenly active screen. He rolled over onto his side and ignored the strain in his back as he moved, narrowing his eyes so he wasn’t blinded when he examined just who was calling him at 3 in the morning on a Sunday. Though he already knew.

_Call from: Sebastian Castellanos_

Joseph fumbled for the phone and pressed the “answer” button with his thumb as he raised it to his ear. Though he was tired, and his heart raced just from being woken up against his will by the purposefully-loud ringing of his work phone, he mustered what he could of his voice to speak.

“Hello? Seb? It’s 3 in the morning, are you alright?” Joseph, always good at asking questions he knew the answer to. But he knew when to ask and when to listen. The man liked to play stoic to him, the strong silent type, but a man is always weakest when the sun goes down. When he’s left to his own devices and the consequences of his thoughts. Tonight must be a night that has taken advantage of him, strangled in a moment of weakness like a rabbit with its foot caught in a snare. He was struggling. This marks the third time that week he’d been called in the middle of the night, just after he’d drifted off himself…

Sebastian waited a while before speaking again. His voice in Joseph’s ear was rough and strained, breathless, like he was fighting for stability, as if he were grappling for some kind of handhold on a dangerous precipice. “…Couldn’t sleep. I… I need some company right now.”

“You want me to come over?” Joseph switched Sebastian to speaker, full volume, so he could lay his phone on the pillow next to him and reached over to turn on his bedside lamp. The light broke through, filling the inky darkness of the bedroom with a soft, warm yellow glow. He turned onto his side again, lying near the phone as if it were Sebastian there in person on the bed beside him. His hand resting on the bed where he imagined Sebastian’s chest to be, where the invisible heart beat in nervous flutters against his fingertips.

Sebastian was likely in a similar position, in his own apartment. The apartment he could afford twice over but chose to stay simply because of its proximity to the KCPD headquarters and not because of its (lacking of) features. Joseph’s apartment was noticeably nicer. A townhouse. Filled with mementos and photographs and trinkets and simple space-takers like bookshelves and tables–though it was a fair commute from the office. He liked to keep his distance from work, lest it follow him on his drive home and haunt his back windshield, the faces of cold cases ghosting after him in his mirror as he drove down the empty Krimson highway. However the battle with his own personal demons was usually one he emerged victorious from. He was lucky.

“No, you don’t have to come over,” Sebastian answered, and Joseph listened as the sounds of discomforted shuffling filled the space around him, crackling along with the static through the speakers of his phone. Somewhere in the background, cars honked and sirens wailed, and an owl’s low hooting echoed. Sebastian went outside, or was standing by a window now, perhaps. Likely holding a cigarette between two fingers, its tip glowing faintly in the night like a toxic candle. “I just… needed something distracting. To hear your voice.”

“My voice?”

Usually, Sebastian was telling him to shut up in some way or another–what didn’t help was it was often during work when Joseph had to constantly remind him to  _seriously, put out your cigarettes while you’re in the office, Seb, you’re gonna burn this place to the ground one day in your negligence and the Fire Department will have a field day busting our chops for the rest of the year._ Probably an insensitive remark, despite the truth behind it. Alright–he’d let Sebastian have that one.

Another brief silence, the sounds of hushed breathing and more shuffling, followed by the telltale  _clink_  of Sebastian’s lighter. An inhale, an exhale. Joseph imagined the tendril haze of smoke drifting from his parted lips into the clouded sky, dissipating into moonlight. “Yeah. You’re always so calm, how do you do it? You keep me from blowing my top half the time. I… I thought calling you would help.”

“Did something upset you?” He’d try again, see if he could get any answers.

“It’s the nightmares again. They always start as good dreams… next thing I know, everything is on fire, I’m running for my life but my legs just won’t move, I can hear screams… I wake up feeling like my heart’s gonna fly out of me. I wake up and I don’t know if I’m still dreaming. I wonder if everything is just one long fucked-up nightmare now.”

Joseph frowned, running a hand through his hair as he thought of how to respond. He settled on, “You’re not dreaming, Sebastian. Not anymore. You’re awake and I’m here and you have control over yourself again. Nothing from your dreams can get to you now.”

“…Right. You’re right. Thanks, Jo.” The reply wasn’t convincing in the slightest. The prying had to continue, though just as gentle nudges for now.

“It’s alright, Seb. You can talk about it if you want to. But I won’t make you.” Patience was the main key in helping Sebastian realize himself; at this point he was Sebastian’s best hope and closest attempt to speak to a therapist. 

 _Therapists are for bullshitters_ , Sebastian told him one day over his second glass of his favorite whiskey,  _I’m no bullshitter. I don’t have the time for it. I’m not going to pay an arm and a leg to speak to someone who’s gonna tell me to go get some fresh air or shove some medicine down my throat. I don’t need meds. I just need–_ a friend. And not the kind of friend he found in his flask, or in his cigarettes.

Another inhale through the speakers, then an irritated sigh. Sometimes when Sebastian smoked out of frustration, the smoke from his cigarette trickled out of his nose, as if he were a dragon with fire in his belly, waiting for the perfect time to unleash the pent-up destruction within himself. “I… I just want to be able to sleep for two goddamn hours in a row… I’m not even asking for a full night. Just enough I can think straight without having to drown myself in coffee first.”

Joseph knew exactly where Sebastian was coming from. He’d felt it himself, too, not nearly to the extent his partner had, but he knew. His secondhand low from working side-by-side with Sebastian and being there when things inevitably went further downhill as their jobs progressed. People always got smarter, trickier, more evasive. It was frustrating.

“I think you should try to go back to sleep now, Sebastian.”

“How can I, when I’m just gonna have another nightmare?”

Joseph waited, taking a small pause to think. Maybe, he’d step things up from being partner-therapist tonight. If it helped. “I’ll stay with you. Until you fall asleep. We can just talk over the phone until you can’t stay awake anymore, if you’d like.”

“That… sounds good.” Maybe, there was a smile somewhere in his voice. Static filled Joseph’s room again for a brief flicker of a moment as Sebastian put out his cigarette and went back inside. “So, what, are you gonna tell me a bedtime story or something?”

They both shared a small chuckle and finally, Joseph thought Sebastian had started on his path to a better night. He sounded like the weight had been lifted from his chest and shoulders, his tone just a little lighter.

“Not quite. I just thought… we could enjoy each other’s company. You never did let me finish my story from the other day; when the neighbors called me out to get their cat down off their roof, remember?” He went on to tell his story, hoping to offer some refuge in distraction, trailing off only when Sebastian stopped chuckling every few minutes and the sound of soft breaths was the only remaining indication the call still continued. Joseph smiled to himself and situated the phone on the pillow once again, out of his reach so he wouldn’t accidentally roll over on top of it and end the call.

This would be his solution from now on, staying with Sebastian until he fell asleep again. Like a sleepover of sorts, but something more than that. Joseph knew, deep down, Sebastian missed having company in his bed. Maybe this was what he needed more than advice. Just someone to lie there with him and breathe, remind him that he was alive and everything was alright. Joseph knew, deep down inside himself as well, he needed the company too.

“Goodnight, Seb. Sleep well.”


End file.
